


Wrath

by Yoselin



Series: Seven Deadly Sins (Arcana) [3]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoselin/pseuds/Yoselin
Summary: In which Dahlia deals with the fallout of last night.Direct continuation from Pride.Part 3 of the Seven Deadly Sins series.





	Wrath

In order to keep appearances at court, Countess Nadia often held banquets at the palace for the Courtiers. The major power holders at court attended a breakfast or lunch in order to speak to Lucio or Nadia in an attempt to gain more leverage. The invitation list was strict and the air around the room was often tense.   
Dahlia, neither a courtier nor politician, could only secure her invitation to these banquets due to her high standing in court. While the many nobles around her whispered ‘whore’ under their breaths when she walked past, they admitted that she belonged amidst them. Dahlia may have lacked a city to preside over, but she had Lucio’s ear and bed and that was more than many, including the Countess, could boast.   
Today’s banquet was especially lavished and esteemed. Nadia had outdone herself in preparation and was now gliding from guest to guest exchanging formalities.   
Dahlia, on the other hand, was sitting adjacent to Lucio trying to ignore the tension between them.   
Last night, Lucio had replaced her with a pretty face and made a fool out of her. In turn, Dahlia had seduced Doctor Devorak. The little plaything that had taken her place had slipped away as morning casted it’s rays across the palace, and Julian had left her bedroom in a similar fashion after a brief run-in with Lucio in the hallway.   
While the Count maintained appearances and projected an air of confidence, Dahlia knew the extent to which her revenge had affected him. There was a great chasm in between them, a tension which not even the steak knife in her hand could cut through, and a glowering rage burning in Lucio’s eyes.   
He was mad, furious even, and he refused to address her. His wrath was almost palpable and Dahlia was sure many in the court had already taken note.   
Soon, rumors would swirl about her and Lucio. Dahlia would cease to be the harlot across Lucio’s arm and would now be the discarded lover who had lost his interest. The distance between them would prove her downfall.   
She bit her lip.   
Perhaps she had gone too far this time. While Lucio held no love toward her and was not jealous of her bedmates, he was possessive of her and very aware of the talk surrounding them. Lucio could stand Dahlia being with Doctor Devorak, but he could not stand the court knowing about it. His pride and his reputation were too valuable to have rumors about his mistress being with another swirling about.   
And Dahlia’s own reputation depended on her standing. Dahlia held no title or land, her wellbeing depended on Lucio’s wiles. If Lucio discarded her once and for all, it would be difficult to rise from the bottom. She would be the disgraced whore casted aside, and her reputation would be shattered more than it already was.   
What then would she do? What would she do once everything she had worked for had been wrecked?   
A strange sense of worry settled into her stomach and made the food seem less appetizing. Dahlia bit the inside of her cheek and set her silverware down on the table.   
Perhaps she should do something now. Perhaps she should try and soothe Lucio’s wounded ego and coax him out of his rage. Her very existence depended on it.   
Dahlia ran a finger delicately over the rim of her wineglass and leaned to whisper towards Lucio.   
“The court is very lively this morning,” she addressed.   
It was a feeble attempt at a conversation, but it was what was appropriate for the setting. Dahlia was not a politician so she could not engage Lucio in erudite banter, not that Lucio would follow, and she was not a major noble who could gossip with Lucio either. A simple remark about their setting was just appropriate enough for propriety customs.   
Lucio’s gaze turned to her, eyes dark with rage, and his lip turned up in a sneer. He tried to hide his anger with a confident smirk, but the whiteness of his knuckles as they held his knife were telling.   
“Quite,” was the lone reply. He did not elaborate. He did not continue the conversation.   
This would be difficult, Dahlia realized. Lucio’s wrath was very potent and getting past his defenses would take effort.   
She glanced about her to make sure the court was not paying attention. They weren’t. Some of the courtiers has mingled around Nadia and were discussing gossip, others were speaking to each other in steely tones, and the rest were absorbed in their meals. Lucio and her were, as well as they could be in a crowded room, alone.   
She tried again.   
“The evening is lovely today. A ride through the forest would be nice,” she raised the wineglass to her lips.   
Lucio’s gaze bore into her. Disgust and rage evident for a brief second before haughty confidence replaced them.   
“The humidity is too awful for a ride. Or at least one with horses. Why don’t you call up Doctor Devorak and see if he can give you one,” Lucio quipped.   
Dahlia didn’t take the bait. By now, she was used to steely insults and thinly veiled mocks. One could not share Lucio’s bed and have thin skin.   
She swirled the wine around the glass until it resembled a whirlpool.   
“Doctor Devorak is attending to his patients in town. I would much rather spend the evening with my Count,” she murmured. She trained her gaze on Lucio and hoped false sincerity reflected in her gaze.   
Lucio made a sound at the back of his throat and turned away. His shoulders were still stiff with displeasure and his lips were drawn tight. He resembled a child pouting.   
He was childish and immature, Dahlia realized. Soothing his ire would be harder than she had envisioned. No matter, his rage could be mended. Dahlia had done it before and would do it now. There was too much at stake over the loss of her standing.   
Taking another glance to ensure that the court remained occupied elsewhere, she let her fingers dance near Lucio’s own hand. He tensed his hands over his silverware but did not bat her touch away. To shove her away or turn down her attention was to let her win, on some note, and prove that he was bothered. He was too vain to admit he was upset.   
“I overheard the staff remark about how lovely the garden looked in the sunlight. Would His Excellency be interested in seeing it for himself?” Dahlia let her fingers skim his.   
Lucio’s fists did not ease. He gazed at her hand with boredom.   
“The garden bores me.”  
Dahlia continued her touch over his knuckles. She traced the ridges of his fists and let her nails teasingly glide over his bones.   
“The maze then? Ancient cultures used to claim mazes helped one relax.”  
Lucio’s lip curled up in arrogance. “I relaxed very well last night. The little, young thing in my bed was more than suitable.”  
He moved his hand then to grab her fingers. His grip was tight and his jaw was clenched. He was still furious at her, yet he was enjoying her desperation.   
Dahlia resisted the urge to shrink away from him. If that was how he wanted to play...  
She returned his squeeze and met him head on. This time, she let her own confidence bleed through.   
“Yet you are still so tense?” She let her knee skim his leg from beneath the table.   
Lucio did not even react. He set her hand back down on and leaned back in his seat with a smirk.   
“Perhaps I should call my entertainment again tonight then?” He raised one elbow in a lazy shrug.   
Dahlia fought her frustration. Fine. Honey would not work but there was still vinegar.   
“Shall I call Doctor Devorak for you instead? He is very talented with his hands and could ease some tension from your shoulders.”  
Hook. Line. Sinker.   
Lucio’s face colored with fury and he almost shattered his wineglass. He openly glared at her before schooling back his nonchalant mask. Reeling in his wrath, he leaned forward towards her.   
“Really? I have often found the Doctor to be rather dull in company. What will he do? Will he pour leeches over me? No thank you, my dear. My taste is much more refined for the leftovers of a harlot.”  
Dahlia’s anger simmered yet she pushed it down. She needed Lucio’s approval in order to keep her influence. She could not rise to his barbs-  
But that did not mean she had to just take them.   
Dahlia raised her lips in a smile and gave Lucio a gaze full of meaning.   
“Hm, he does have a penchant for leeches but I can tell him to leave them at home. After all, there are better ways to suck.”  
Lucio’s face betrayed nothing but his hands clenched against his knife again. He took his time cutting his steak. He was still furious, getting more so by the minute, but he was managing to reel it in.   
“How crass, my dear. I will have to pass on Doctor Devorak. After all, I do not take leftovers,” he murmured.   
Dahlia took a sip from her wineglass and risked a glance around the room. Some had tuned in to their conversation before looking away. Their attentions made her mission more vital. If she failed here, she was ruined in court. If she succeeded, she would prove just how well she had the Count wrapped around her finger.   
She could not fail. Even if it killed her, she had to coax him out of his wrath.   
“Hm, how disappointing. I had hoped the doctor could learn from you. He is a little impulsive and rushes into things. He finishes his job quickly, much too quickly some might say.”  
This remark earned a snort from Lucio. Some of the anger bled from his body and he smirked openly. If there was one thing Lucio loved more than being complimented, it was to have his competition be shredded.   
“What else did you expect from a measly Doctor? Doctors are a lazy profession, my dear. Nobility is so much better.”  
Dahlia purposefully reached for another bread roll in a way that allowed Lucio to view down her dress. It did the trick as she saw the lazy and lustful grin he gave her. Perhaps she could fix things after all.   
“Perhaps you are right. I think I’ve grown bored with the Doctor for now. How disappointing,” Dahlia shrugged.   
Lucio’s smirk grew. He was enjoying this. The Count was no idiot, he knew what Dahlia was desperate to do, and he was vastly enjoying the display.   
Lucio knew Dahlia was ruined. Being his mistress was the only thing she had going for her. If Lucio discarded her now, she would have to leave in shame. If he took her back, she could continue her position as his favorite. Her fate lied entirely in his hands-  
And he got off from it. To hold her reputation in his palm was more than enough to soothe his ire.   
He leaned forward to her, just enough for it to be appropriate between a Count and a civilian, and dropped his voice low.   
“And have you learned your lesson, my little lamb? Have you finally come crawling back to me?”  
Dahlia pushed down her pride. He loved this, loved having her bend to his demand. This was a power high for him, he loved seeing her destroy her dignity.   
She ground her teeth before easing a charming smile on her face. As much as it pained her, she needed her position.   
She angled her head towards him and lowered her lashes. Fitting the mold he had set for her, she took on the appearance of a wilted rose. If he wanted her to be humiliated, if he wanted her to beg for his forgiveness, she’d do it.   
It was better to beg for Lucio’s handouts than beg for scraps in the streets.   
“I missed you,” she whispered, “Could you forgive me?”  
Her face burned with humiliation but perhaps that blush only added to her act. In any case, the last of Lucio’s wrath fell away. He was properly appeased now that she was back in her place at his feet.   
He pretended to be bored as he gazed down at his empty glass. His hand ghosted underneath the table over her thigh and began to move up.   
“Perhaps. Perhaps I’ve also missed my favorite little lamb. Last night’s entertainment bored me too fast for my liking. What say you, my dear, shall I forgive you?” He raised a brow in arrogance.   
Dahlia’s fists clenched over her silverware yet she continued her charade. Damn him, he really wanted to humiliate her.   
And damn her, she had no other choice.   
As his hand drifted up, she placed her fingers over it.   
“Let me apologize first. Properly,” she feigned subservience.   
And with that, Lucio was appeased.   
Lust burned in his gaze for a moment before he stood up. With a nod, he motioned for her to follow.   
The room followed their movements as they made their way to the door. Lucio excused himself by claiming that he was bored and Dahlia followed silently behind him.   
They were not inconspicuous as they exited. The entire court knew they were headed to his bedroom, Nadia’s disapproving look proved it, yet they didn’t care.   
For Lucio, it was a power play. The court could see that his mistress would always crawl back to him. She could flirt and lay with Devorak, but she would always be his property until he discarded her.   
And for Dahlia, it was survival. By remaining with Lucio, she kept her standing in society. She proved to the court that she would always be Lucio’s favorite despite who he slept with, and she maintained her hold on the little power she had in Vesuvia.   
She was not a politician nor a courtier, she held no lands or title, so Lucio was her lifeline.   
And no matter how it pained her and killed her pride, she would do everything to keep her position as his favorite.   
She had to.


End file.
